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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147299">Something to Rely On</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KisaraMoriarty777/pseuds/KisaraMoriarty777'>KisaraMoriarty777</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Outer Science (TMA Series) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Happy, Crying, Cute, Eventual Happy Ending, Feelings Realization, Group Therapy, M/M, Multi, Pining Michael, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Safe Haven, Sweet Emotions Challenge, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:33:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KisaraMoriarty777/pseuds/KisaraMoriarty777</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Statement of The Distortion regarding its meeting with Oliver Banks and Mike Crew</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, mike crew/oliver banks/michael distortion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Outer Science (TMA Series) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Something to Rely On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Hello again. It has been quite some time since we have last spoken. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>You know the reason for that. I don’t care much for conversations about myself with your lot. </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">I suppose you do not. And yet here you are. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes. It is odd, isn’t it? </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">Maybe, but it is not my place to judge. So, are you going to give a statement? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>That is what I came here for, so I suppose that is what I should do. Now, I am not used to talking about myself or my experiences, so I might not be all that good at it, but I will try my best. </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">Very well. Begin when you will. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>This happened a few weeks ago. It was on the day of that awful snowstorm. Most people were inside their houses and some were trapped alone. This made it perfect for me because I had easy access to those that I have been… keeping an eye on, let’s say. I was walking around the empty streets and searching for someone to entertain myself with. I saw a young man shivering in the cold as he waited outside a local café. He looked as though he had not slept in days and was clearly getting quite paranoid. He had no coat on, which was odd considering the weather, so I figured that he must have been pretty disorientated. This was perfect for me, and so I went to have a little chat with him. Just then, someone walked up to him. Someone I recognized, and yet did not recognize at all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He had dirty brown hair and his eyes were bright blue. As I looked into his eyes, I saw what seemed to be sparks in them. Not metaphorical, you see, but it seemed there was an… electricity running through him. If that was not a give-away enough, the lightning scar on his neck certainly was. I knew him to be Mike Crew, but I myself had never met him. Or had I? I suppose it is complicated. I never met him as Michael Distortion. He did have a run-in with the Spiral, yes, but not with me. Not really. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I watched as he approached the man I had been interested in talking with, and I scowled. I will admit that I had been looking forwards to claiming that man as my next victim, but it seemed that the Vast had beaten me to it. Or, that was what I thought. That changed, however, when a handsome man approached the two. Mike gave an irritated look to the newcomer, who had a worried and almost tired expression on his face. I created a door in the wall of one of the buildings beside the café, walked through it, and listened in to their conversation. </em>
</p><p>“This one is mine,” <em>growled Mike. </em></p><p>“He is not meant to die yet,” <em>the newcomer replied in a monotone voice. </em></p><p>“I really don’t care,” <em>spat Mike. He seemed to be on edge, and I suspected that he was likely getting pressure from Simon Fairchild to take more victims. I saw the newcomer sigh at this. The man who had been waiting by the café gave them both confused looks and tried to run. I… I was not about to let him leave and tell people about all this. That would have been rather bothersome. So, when he went to try and get help from the bar a couple of doors down, I made sure that he used a door that was never really there. I shut the door and left the man to wander for a while. I turned back to see both the newcomer and Mike giving me a look that was a mix of horror and confusion. </em></p><p>“Where did you come from?” <em>Mike asked in a shocked voice. </em></p><p>“You are… what are you?” <em>asked the newcomer. </em></p><p>“That is an excellent question. I am the Distortion,” <em>I told them both. </em></p><p>“You don’t look very distorted,” <em>the newcomer replied calmly. I… I am not sure why, but… that comment bothered me a lot. I am normally not defined by anything and I rather dislike defining myself by emotions, but… I will admit that that rather upset me. I think he saw this, for he gave me a soft smile. </em>“The name is Oliver. Oliver Banks,”<em> he told me. </em></p><p>“Why are you a person?” <em>Mike questioned. I turned to him with a confused expression, but then remembered that, when he had encountered the Spiral, it had not been an encounter with a person or humanoid creature. Not really. Though the creature had manifested itself in a physical form that was conceivable by the human mind, it did not look at all as I did. I turned away from them. </em></p><p>“This was <strong>not </strong>my choice,” <em>I hissed, hating the fact that he said it in a way that accused me of wanting this body. I never wanted this body. It defines me too much, and I am not supposed to be defined. I am not supposed to be anything and yet supposed to be everything. But your Gertrude… she forced me to be like this. Forced me to be Michael, and yet not be him at the same time. </em></p><p>
  <em>I am getting off track. I will continue the statement now. Mike and Oliver both seemed to be taken aback by this. I suppose both were under the impression that I had willingly taken Michael Shelley, but when I made it very clear that I had not, they seemed not only shocked… but I could see something else within their eyes. Hurt, but not for themselves. For me. </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">I believe that is known as sympathy or possibly empathy </span>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes. Perhaps that was it. Both looked at me with sadness in their eyes. Oliver even looked away for a moment, and while Mike continued to look in my direction, he also looked quite sad. We stood there for a moment, and then Mike spoke. </em>
</p><p>“Hey. Can an avatar get out of those halls of yours?” <em>he asked me. I nodded at this. </em></p><p>“Yes. Anyone can, if I let them,” <em>I answered. I did not add the fact that someone could, theoretically, escape. I did not see it as something that was important to mention, nor was it something I felt I wanted to mention. </em></p><p>“It is pretty chilly out. Might be warmer in your hallways,” <em>Mike suggested. I nodded at this. </em></p><p>“Yes. Almost certainly,” <em>I replied, confused as to why he brought this up. Oliver gave Mike a confused look, dragging him away for a moment so the two could speak in private. I waited there, watching them whisper and bicker between themselves. Finally, the two returned to where I was, and Oliver sighed. </em></p><p>“Mike was wondering if we could stay in your halls until the storm passes. He wants to chat about some stuff,” <em>Oliver explained to me. I blinked a few times. They were both avatars with their own Entities… and yet they wanted to come into the hallways to talk? I was unsure of what to say. This had only really happened one time before, but that had been with someone who had not been touch by any entity. </em></p><p>
  <span class="u">That would be your new… apprentice? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes. But like I said, that time was very different. This time, I had two avatars asking me. Avatars of other entities. I was not sure what they wanted. Maybe they thought they could kill me. Maybe they wished to eliminate me for some reason I did not know. Or maybe they simply wanted to talk and get away from the cold. Whatever the reason was, I knew that I would have the upper hand in my hallways, so I decided to go for it. Let them join me. I created one of my doors and motioned for them to walk in. They did so, thanking me for inviting them in and then they entered my domain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It took great pains for me to change the inside of my hallways and corridors in order to make somewhere we could all gather and talk. I tried my best to make a suitable space, though it was hard without any furniture or things. I have some of Michael Shelley’s memories, so I knew what a house was supposed to look like when guests came over. I am not sure why, but I tried my best to replicate what Michael Shelley knew to be acceptable for company. I made an empty hallway and removed most of the mirrors. I instead replaced it with colorful spiraled wallpaper. I sat down on the floor and watched as Oliver and Mike looked around in surprise and fascination. </em>
</p><p>“This place is actually quite interesting,” <em>complimented Oliver. I… I blushed at this. It was an odd feeling, but I knew somehow that I was blushing. I am not used to that feeling, though I do not dislike it. I suppose I have simply gotten used to it by now. Anyhow, the two eventually sat down and got comfortable. The hallways were much warmer than the temperature outside, which I could see both were grateful for. Though the cold never could kill either, I knew that they disliked it still. </em></p><p>“You wanted to talk?” <em>I reminded them in an attempt to break the silence. </em></p><p>“Do you like being you?” <em>Oliver blurted out. My eyes widened and I broke out into laughter. </em></p><p>“What an odd question! It is the sort that one would expect from me!” <em>I cackled. </em></p><p>“It is. But what he means is… do you ever feel like… you wish you could lead a different life?” <em>Mike added. I froze at this. </em></p><p>
  <em>Yes. Of course! I felt like that all the time. I had never really had cause to think of it before, but yes. Every time I moved and felt the skin of Michael trapping me, I felt that. Every single time someone called me by that name instead of simply knowing me as “The Distortion.” I felt it every time I would remember something from his past, for I am not him and I do not want to be him. I feel it every time the Archivist speaks of the Spiral, because I think about my past and do not remember it as clear, for Michael’s memories flood into my mind instead and I cannot stand it. I looked down at the ground when Mike made this comment and I slowly nodded. </em>
</p><p>“Yes. I do,” <em>I told him honestly. It is ironic that I was that honest. Being the throat of disillusion and lies, you would expect me to have lied. But the looks both gave me… it showed me that they knew exactly how I felt. They felt the same pain I did. Not due to the same circumstances, but I knew they understood me in a way no one else could. </em></p><p>“You didn’t choose to be Michael. I didn’t choose to serve “The End”. Mike only chose to serve “The Vast” because he felt it was his only option to escape the pains he was dealing with,” <em>Oliver said.</em></p><p>“Nobody else gets it. A lot of them chose this life. They wanted this life. Or they settled with it. Accepted what they have to do as an avatar. But for me… I don’t get that same thrill. I tried. Believe me. I’ve thrown plenty of people off buildings and tried to feel the same thrill that Simon always rambles about feeling… but it is just dull. Like…” <em>began Mike, but Oliver cut him off. </em></p><p>“Like you are just doing it to survive. Like you don’t have any other choice, because you know that whatever else waits for you is so much worse than what you are dealing with now,” <em>Oliver added in. </em></p><p>“Like you can’t do anything else because you don’t know how. Because this has been what you have been for so long, and now… now you feel hopeless. It drains you and yet fuels you because it is you,” <em>I mumbled, knowing their pain and struggles all too well. Oliver and Mike both turned to me with sad little smiles. </em></p><p>“Yeah. Exactly,” <em>Mike whispered. He was crying now and trying to wipe his tears away. I had seen many people cry and many people in pain… yet this time struck something within myself. Or maybe within Michael? I am not sure, but I felt tears falling from my own eyes. Something I was not aware was possible. Oliver was fighting tears now as well, and one tear slipped from his left eye, falling onto the floor with a small slash. He looked at it and gasped. </em></p><p>“I can’t see them here!” <em>Oliver exclaimed. He began laughing happily and jumped up. </em>“I can’t see them here!” <em>he repeated. Mike blinked in confusion and I followed suit. </em></p><p>“What?” <em>Mike and I asked at the same time. We shared a look and then began nervously chuckling. </em></p><p>“The lines. The ones that lead to the people that are going to die. The tendrils! They are gone here!” <em>he giggled. The pure joy I saw on his face was like nothing I had ever seen. It was the look of a man who had found peace finally. Who had seen light after living in the darkness his whole life. </em></p><p>“Great. Wish I had something I could exclaim about, but… I don’t know. I no longer feel like flinging either of you off a building?” <em>Mike awkwardly chimed in. </em></p><p>“Well, there are no buildings for you to throw people off of, so that is a good thing. I suppose,” <em>I contributed. There was silence for a few moments, and then all of us started laughing again. Oliver was a crying mess as relief and happiness washed over him. Mike was rolling around on the ground laughing hard, and I was holding my stomach in pain as I tried to calm myself down and stop laughing. It would be a good five or six minutes before we collected ourselves enough to sit back down calmly. Once we had, all of us sat there with blushes on our faces. None of us were used to showing that level of emotion to anyone, you see, so it was quite new for us to be able to just sit, talk, cry, and laugh. It was something, I suppose, we all needed. </em></p><p>“We should do this again sometime. Meet up here, I mean,” <em>suggested Mike. </em></p><p>“I’d like that,” <em>Oliver returned. </em></p><p>“Can we do that? Meet here again? Meet up with you again, Distortion?” <em>Mike requested. A pang of happiness hit me when he used that name instead of “Michael”, and I suddenly truly knew the joy Oliver had expressed earlier. The relief that comes from a moment of blissful calm, or in my case, comes from someone truly trying to see you for you. I nodded enthusiastically. </em></p><p>“Yes. Same time next week?” <em>I stated. Both nodded at this. They then got up to leave, which was likely a good idea. We had been in the halls for quite some time, and outside of them, it had been nearly a week since the snowstorm. I saw them off and told them that I would find them for the meeting next week. Mike told me with no uncertain terms to never make a door in his house for privacy reasons. This made Oliver laugh, and I will admit that I was blushing quite a bit at this comment. Oliver did add later that the same rule applied to him, and I assured them both that I would simply make sure that a door somewhere outside would be there that was not there before. They seemed content with this, and I created a door for them to both leave through. They said their goodbyes and headed off. And for the first time in a very long time… I felt lonely. I missed the company. I could not wait until the next time I saw them. </em></p><p>
  <em>Ever since then, we have been meeting monthly instead. We changed it so that we could have longer meetings and stay away from the world for a week, though it only feels like a few hours to us. Oliver and Mike have never missed a meeting, and we’ve gotten to know each other quite a bit. It… it has been quite nice. I think it truly was something that all of us needed to have in our lives. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something to rely on. </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">End Statement: </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span class="u">Supplemental: </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">It is interesting that the Distortion would enjoy spending its time with Mike Crew and Oliver Banks. The three of them are so different, and yet, in a way, they are very similar. All truly are in positions that they did not ask to be in, and all need that support system in order to be able to move forwards. There was something the Distortion – or rather Mike Crew - was wrong about though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">Not everyone else chose their paths. Not all of us want to lead the lives we are living. Some of us had no other chance. We grew up in that life or were forced to take after others who worshiped a certain entity. Some of us only did it because otherwise, our families would have rejected us. Otherwise, we would have been abandoned. Some of us did it out of fear, while others did it out of desperation. Some of us are bad… but others are not. Others do not deserve to be judged so harshly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">He </span>
  </em>
  <span class="u">is like that. He does not deserve to be judged so harshly. He only did what he did to survive. He was raised that way. So it is not fair to judge him for it. If anyone deserves that judgment, it is me. But I just wish they would stop judging him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">Do you hear these, I wonder? I know you sneak into my office when you think I am busying elsewhere. Do you hear these statements and recordings? I would imagine that you only take whatever it is you need from here and go… but if you do hear these… then I am sorry. I am sorry for what you went through. I could never say this to your face… but I am so sorry they forced you into that life. I know you think you fit so well with your entity… but I think that, deep down, you only lie to yourself and say that because it is easier to admit to yourself then the truth. The truth that, inside…</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">You want something to rely on too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">End Supplemental:</span>
</p>
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